


Sweet Nothings - Charlie Barber

by supersoakerx



Series: Sweet Nothings [1]
Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: D/s themes, Daddy Dom!Charlie, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominance/submission, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fisting Reader's mouth, Mildly Public Sex, The possibility of getting caught, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: Charlie and kitten (you) go to Sandra's for Christmas with all the family. He's up late, and you go find him.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Series: Sweet Nothings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921207
Kudos: 176





	Sweet Nothings - Charlie Barber

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sweet Nothings](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/578743) by Neil LaBute, Mike Figgis. 



It was late, and he hadn’t come to bed yet.

The room felt cold, a little stale. You couldn’t blame him for prolonging sleep as long as possible. It was too quiet, too. There was no way you could sleep in a strange bed, in a strange house, without at the very least the sound of Charlie’s soft sleep-breathing next to you.

You get up out of bed and make to head out of the guest room, to go find him and _persuade_ him to come and settle for the night. He’d had a long day, and they were only going to get worse, only going to make him weary and moody.

You grab the door handle and realise—you definitely need a robe.

Charlie requested that you don’t hold back on any of your undergarments or sleepwear while you’re away with him for Christmas. ‘Just because we’re going to Sandra’s,’ he’d said, ‘doesn’t mean you won’t dress up for me, kitten.’ He’d stalked over to you and pinned you to the wall then. ‘They won’t know what you’ve got on underneath your clothes,’ he’d nuzzled into your hair, your ear, and said, ‘but Daddy will.’

So, not wanting Sandra or Nicole or God forbid, _anyone_ to find you in your silky pyjama top and matching shorts, with the thin straps and cute drawstring ribbon, you shrug on a robe and slide your feet into your slippers and head out into Sandra’s house.

There is a faint, soft glow coming from the kitchen: the only light in the otherwise dark house. You hear the fridge door open and close, the only sound.

It had to be him.

You pad over into the kitchen and peep around, spying Charlie at the fridge. He’s chewing a mouthful of something and in one hand he’s holding his phone, scrolling. You walk over to him, being careful not to startle him, and whisper, “scrolling through all your Instagram hotties?”

A corner of his mouth quirks in a smile, and he doesn’t look up from his phone. He says, quietly, “You flatter me, kitten,” and slips his phone into his pocket. He crosses his arms and leans against the fridge. “You should be getting your beauty sleep.”

You take a moment to appreciate him… this man is fucking huge.

Even leaning, he’s taller than the damn fridge. He’s so big and broad, and you know what he’s hiding under his button up shirt, know the prize he keeps beneath his slacks, between his legs. You can’t believe how he seems to dwarf everything around him, and you love how he looks down at you.

And there’s something about where he is, where you are, together in his ex-wife’s mother’s house, in the _kitchen_ …

“I’m hungry,” you say, softly.

Charlie drops his folded arms and his face softens, looking at you almost tenderly. “I’ll fix you something, gorgeous,” he says, “there’s plenty of leftovers,” and goes to turn back to the fridge.

You take a step closer, closing the distance between you and getting right up in his space, pressing your body to his, looking up into his eyes. He stops.

“I don’t want leftovers,” you say, and you drop your voice, “I want my favourite midnight snack, Daddy.”

Charlie’s whole body stiffens, and then relaxes almost instantly. In the low light, you see his eyes crinkle up just a little and he bites the insides of his cheeks to stop from smiling. He brings his hands up, one on each side of your neck, puts his face into neutral and says, so deep and low and quiet and almost _threatening_ , he says, “you’re gonna stand here in Sandra’s kitchen, call me Daddy and tell me you want to taste my cum? Is that what you’re doing here, kitten?”

You let his hot breath wash over your face and blink slowly at him, and you start to slowly untie your robe. You slink it off your shoulders and let it slide down your arms, slip to the floor and land in a pool around your feet. Charlie takes a deep breath in.

Your hands find his belt, and you slowly sink to your knees, gripping the leather tight. You trail your hands down and place your palms on the front of his thighs and splay your fingers, look up at him so sweetly and whisper, “from down here, Daddy, you look _so big_.”

Charlie folds his arms again, not letting on that he’s replaying your words over and over in his head. His face is set, his breathing even. “You’re a fucking filthy little girl,” he says, quiet and serious. “You know it, don’t you? You know that’s what you are.”

At that moment you lean in, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself, and nuzzle into his crotch with your nose and mouth, keeping your eyes locked on his face.

“Yeah, you do,” he says, not giving away any kind of reaction to your attention between his legs, “or you wouldn’t be in here asking Daddy to use your mouth as a cum bucket.”

That makes you gasp, lean away from him just slightly in surprise, and it’s perfect. It’s exactly what Charlie wanted.

“Yeah that, right there,” he says, pointing one fat finger at your open mouth and bending down ever so slightly, “that’s Daddy’s little cum bucket, isn’t it kitten?”

“Yes Da—,” you say, the heat of arousal flooding through you, but by complete accident you’re too loud and Charlie shoves his finger right into your mouth to shut you up, quick.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he whispers, getting right up in your face now, pressing his finger down on your tongue and pressing his thumb up against the underside of your mouth from the outside. He pushes his finger far back into your mouth, the join between his thumb and index finger resting on your chin, “the only thing this little hole is good for is dumping all my cum into.” His eyes flick between yours and when he gets no response, with his grip inside your mouth and underneath your chin, he nods your head for you and says “say ‘yes Daddy’, silly slut.”

You can almost feel yourself drip. You breathe the words as best you can, and quietly too, saliva gathering in your mouth.

“You’re getting all wet in here now, kitten,” he says, feeling around your tongue, the insides of your cheeks, your teeth, the roof of your mouth. “So talented, aren’t you, dirty girl? Giving Daddy two wet holes to fuck.”

Suddenly you hear a creak, a noise from upstairs. You gasp around Charlie’s finger and he immediately shoves another one into your mouth and spits out a, “sh.” He looks up the stairs, seeing no lights, hearing no footsteps. He decides it’s just a bump in the night in a well-loved old house.

Thank fuck. He’s having way too much fun.

You see his shoulders relax, just the tiniest bit, and decide to draw his attention all the way back to you. You close your lips around his two fingers and suck.

Charlie’s head snaps back down to you, kneeling on the kitchen floor in the silky soft pj’s he bought you and sucking on two of his thick fingers. He feels himself start to swell up, and he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth, along your tongue, feeling how soft and wet you are.

Your eyes flutter and you give him the tiniest, softest little moan.

Charlie almost can’t bear it. Almost has to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, shove you face down onto the mattress in the guest bedroom and fuck the daylights out of you with a ballgag in your mouth. He packed one, just in case.

But he’s got plans for you, now. After your little display.

He leans down again and grabs your jaw with his free hand. He shakes your jaw a little as he says, “show Daddy his cum bucket.”

You release his fingers and open your mouth for him. Your silky pj shorts are getting almost uncomfortably wet.

Charlie’s hand moves from your jaw to cradle the back of your head. He keeps his two slicked up fingers halfway inside your mouth, his thumb resting on your cheek. Then, he brings up his third finger, says “wider”, and when you stretch your mouth open he slips his finger inside your lips, joining the other two. “Suck, kitten,” he whispers, and you try to close your lips around all three, not quite getting there, so you just lick at his fingers with the flat of your tongue.

Everything about this was so fucking dirty. In the low light Charlie watches you gaze up at him with something like devotion, and his hard dick pulses with arousal. He fists his hand in your hair, clutching at your strands and tugging your head back. “One more, kitten,” he says, “open wide.”

Head tipping back, your eyes flare wide for a moment. His fingers are so fat and thick, the three of them aren’t even all the way inside your mouth and you think you might gag on them when he tries to get his fourth finger in.

Charlie senses your unease. “Yes you will, kitten,” he says, angling your head, leaning down and over you. His pinky finger slides across your cheek and pokes in at the corner of your open mouth as he repeats, “yes you will,” and wriggles his last finger inside your mouth.

You try to relax your jaw and make more space in your mouth for him, your lips stretching wide over all four fingers jammed halfway inside.

Charlie’s thumb gently strokes at your jaw, your cheek. It’s in total contrast to the way your stretched open mouth is stuffed full of his thick digits. You try to suck on them but it’s too much, and you lurch a little, almost gagging on them.

Charlie hums in approval. “Good girl,” he says, and pulls you by your mouth closer to his face. “Good little cum bucket,” he says, dropping his voice the deepest you’ve ever heard.

He lets you sit for a moment, lets your wet mouth coat his fingers, lets the hot breath from your nose wash over his knuckles, the back of his hand. He lets you dart your eyes between his, getting bigger and bigger and almost on the verge of panic.

Then, he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and you gasp for air, one of his favourite sounds. He wipes his drooled-on fingers on your bare shoulder, considering you, planning his next move.

“Daddy wants to see his other toys,” he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet as he stands to his full and towering height. He wraps one big arm around your back, at your waist, and pulls you in, crushing you to his body, “and I know you, kitten. I know you want to show me.”

You can feel his erection through his pants. You breathe up at him, intoxicated, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t make a sound,” he says, as his other hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, thumb stroking over your cheekbone, and then he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

You sigh deeply as he kisses you, breathing through your nose, trying hard not to moan or groan or hum or make any sound at all – especially when he licks into your mouth.

You clutch at his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer, deeper, feeling the kindling from before reigniting and burning brightly in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

He pulls away with a tiny little popping sound, your mouths separating. Charlie’s breath is coming a little harder. He’s so impressed that you kept quiet, he knows how much you love his kisses. “Good girl,” he says, to reward you, thumb stroking your cheek again, about to lift you up and—

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper up at him, and lean up and in to him to kiss him again.

Charlie moves his hand from your cheek and places his index finger on your lips, stopping you. “Not what I want,” he says, not unkindly but firm.

Oh, you remembered now, what he wanted to see. “I’ll show you, Daddy. I’ll show you your other toys,” your eyes flick between his, trying to give him your sweetest, sexiest gaze.

“I know you will,” he says, and in a flash he lifts you up and sits you on the kitchen counter.

You gasp as you ass lands on the cold white tiles and he shushes you again. You thought you’d be going to the guest room you were sharing, not that Charlie would pick you up and plonk you down on the countertop.

You almost say “Charlie!” but he stops you again, just as your mouth moves to make the “ch” sound.

“This was _your_ idea, wasn’t it kitten?” he says, moving in closer and shifting your legs so _you_ fit around _him_ , wrapping his arm behind your back and pulling you forward, closer to him, your ass perched on the end of the counter, “you wanted to play in here, in Sandra’s kitchen,” he strokes some of your hair back from your face, “ _tsk tsk tsk_ , what a dirty fucking girl you are.”

He almost says ‘you’re perfect for me’ at the end of that, but stops himself. It wouldn’t do to say that now, here. No, not at all. So Charlie puts one hand at your waist, and the other wraps around your neck, just holding.

“Daddy,” you say with caution, a warning, feeling your throat press into his hand as you speak. This was way too risky now that you’re here, now that you’re _in_ it. You hadn’t really fully thought about it before, you just missed him and wanted him and needed him and—

At the same time as your internal freak out, Charlie’s hand trails down your body and finds the wet patch where you’ve soaked through your pyjama shorts. He cuts off your thoughts when he says “I fucking knew it. I knew I could smell you, as soon as I spread your legs,” he unties the drawstring ribbon and loosens the waistband of your shorts with a finger, then slips his hand inside and strokes up and down your slick folds with his fingertips, “dirty slut. You’re filthy, kitten.”

You tip your head back, and plant your arms palms down on the counter beside you, supporting yourself up.

Charlie follows your movement, his hand on your throat moving to the side of your neck, his mouth coming to your ear, whispering, “Daddy loves how wet you get, kitten.” One of his fingers presses to your clit and he rubs in small circles, and you feel yourself gushing even wetter. You try to steady your breathing, keep yourself from moaning, and it’s so much harder when Charlie says, “Daddy loves playing with his kitty.”

You pull your lips between your teeth to stop your sounds but you can’t stop when you rock onto his finger, just the once.

Charlie hums lowly. “I love it, I do,” he says, slipping his finger inside your drenched, tight heat, “you know that, don’t you kitten?”

“Daddy!” you whisper. It’s all you can do, and it absolutely thrills him.

“Tell me what this is,” Charlie says, as he starts to slowly pump his finger in and out of you, his other hand clutching your hair at the roots.

“Th-that?” you whisper, relishing the feel of Charlie’s hands, his breath on your ear and neck, “it’s my…” you take a breath, preparing to say the word he used before, “kitty.”

A lick of pleasure creeps up Charlie’s spine and through his cock hearing you say it back to him like that. He decides to tease you. “Who’s kitty?” he says, as he drags his finger along your front wall.

You feel yourself leak onto him again, more wetness seeping from your core. “It’s your kitty, Daddy,” you whisper, heat rising in your cheeks.

Charlie growls lowly in your ear, “yes it is, all mine.” He slips a second finger into you and says, “all for Daddy.”

One of your hands flies up to clutch at his shoulder. Your nails dig in to his flesh through his shirt as you try to contain your moans. His fingers feel so good inside you, thick and long and filling you out, you bite your lip as your brow furrows in pleasure, and your pussy walls flutter around him.

“Mmm,” Charlie hums, deep and dark in your ear when he feels you clench around his fingers, “so tight, so _wet_ , kitten. Daddy loves his little kitty.”

You gasp as you rock your hips onto his hand again, making his thumb catch on your clit.

Charlie’s cock throbs at your little sound and how swollen your clit feels against his thumb.

Each time his fingers thrust into you, he rubs a ring around your clit with his thumb when his fingers are buried knuckle-deep inside you.

Your head tips back and you can feel your eyes losing focus, rolling up into your head. Your legs start to tremble and shake around Charlie’s sides. He releases your hair, trails his hand down your neck, to your chest, pinching at one of your tight, stiff nipples where it pokes through your silk pyjama top.

You let out a little whimper and then clamp one of your own hands over your mouth, shutting yourself up.

Charlie smirks, feeling drunk, high, out of his mind. He can’t believe what he’s doing, _where_ he’s doing it, making you drip for him and clench on his fat fingers right on Sandra’s kitchen counter, Nicole sleeping just upstairs.

He can’t stop the words tumbling from his lips “You can’t keep that dirty mouth shut, can you, kitten? Can’t keep a lid on Daddy’s little cum bucket.”

You whisper to him, “No Daddy, No Daddy, I can’t,” and you start to rock on his fingers, the pressure building and burning and coiling and tightening inside you.

Charlie leans in close to you again, nuzzling your hair and your ear with his nose. He gets his lips right up close to the shell of your ear and whispers, low and deep and dark, “mmm, my dirty little girl,” he feels your pussy squeeze his fingers, “Daddy’s gonna make your little kitty purr, isn’t that right?”

He picks up the pace and changes the angle of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, angling his fingers upwards slightly, grazing your silky walls and feeling every ridge inside you massage his fingers. He growls into your ear, “your kitty’s gonna purr for Daddy.”

Almost immediately, your pussy starts to make sloppy wet squelching sounds. You tense your legs around him and bite back another moan. You were getting so close.

Charlie leans up to look into your eyes, his other hand grabbing and holding your throat again, keeping you still. “Jesus you’re a filthy girl, dripping all over Daddy’s fingers, making all this noise while everyone’s asleep upstairs. You’re so dirty, kitten… you’re _disgusting_.”

Your pussy clenches on his fingers at his words and your breathing comes in sharp pants. You’re trying so hard, but you’re so so close. He had to know. He had to feel it.

“I guess I should let you cum so you stop being such an _embarrassment_.” He starts to flick his thumb back and forth across your stiff clit. “Look at this, feel this? So stiff and hard. So swollen and ready to cum.”

You puff your breath out into his face, “please, Daddy. Please.” You were hot all over, tingling in your fingers and toes, starting to perspire. Your voice drops to the hint of a whisper, rambling “please”s over and over again.

“It sounds like you’re begging, kitten.” Charlie’s eyes are alight, glinting with dirty, dark desire. Your raspy voice chants softly at him some more and he feels his chest swell with something like a sick sense of pride. “Pretty manners for such a dirty slut. _Are_ you begging me for it, kitten?”

A tiny little whimper escapes your mouth, and Charlie’s hand flexes around your throat, grabbing tighter. He feels your pulse throb under his fingers and his own heartbeat thuds in his dick, his pants far too tight now. His breath fans over your face, his eyes boring into yours, black and intense, “Beg me.”

You take a shuddering breath, craning your head and neck towards him so his hand pushes harder against your throat, “I, p-please, Daddy,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulder with a shaky, trembling hand, “I can’t, you—you’re, please let me cum Daddy, please, your fingers are too big and good and I, please Daddy, let me cum on your fingers,” your breath catches at the end.

Charlie gives a slight tilt of his head, lifts his eyebrows for a second as if to say ‘not bad.’ He whispers to you, “alright, alright, shh, hush now,” and you bite your lip, hard. He leans down to your ear again, sucks on your earlobe for a moment and then breathes over your skin, “now, kitten, cum now.”

It’s all you need. You squeeze your eyes shut, grab at his shoulder and his forearm, and dig your nails into his skin. You let your mouth drop open and your eyebrows furrow and pinch together. You let go, letting your powerful, shuddering orgasm crash into you, through you like a wave, trying not to make a single sound.

You jerk your hips onto his fingers, which he’s rammed so far deep inside you, at this angle he’s almost tickling your cervix. The silky walls of your cunt are contracting on his fingers, clamping down so tight and hard, over and over it’s almost painful, so sensitive and overwhelming and _good_ and it takes everything in you not to draw a deep breath in and let it out in a scream.

You gasp for air, clutching at him and chanting his name in his ear as a pleasure so intense pulses through you, you think it might knock you out.

“Shhh, sh, sh,” he tries to settle you as you shake and shudder and gasp in his arms. “Good girl, quiet now. Good girl, shh.”

After a few moments your rocking and trembling eases off, and when your pussy stops pulsing on his fingers, Charlie eases them out of you, out past your swollen, puffy folds. He keeps his hand inside your pyjama shorts, taps your pussy lips gently a few times and says, “good kitty.”

You huff a quiet, breathy giggle, and he can’t help the little smile that tugs at his lips either, and he brings his slick fingers up to your mouth.

Immediately you wrap your lips around them and start to suck your cum off his fingers, just like you know he wants.

Charlie’s impressed that he didn’t have to ask.

His smile broadens, and keeping his voice quiet and deep he says, “I love my kitty, and my little cum bucket,” you swirl your tongue around his fingers at that, and he hums, “such a tasty bucket of cum.” You nod, keeping your eyes locked with his, and he licks his lips.

“When I take my fingers out, I want you to get into that bedroom and wait for me. Take all this off.” He motions to your pyjamas with his eyes.

You nod on his fingers again, and he says, “good. Off you go, kitten,” and withdraws his hand.

You hop down off the countertop on shaky legs, pick up your robe and head straight to the bedroom, doing as Charlie bid you. You take one last look at this huge man, standing bigger and taller than the damn fridge, and another spark of arousal pulses through you.

When you’re out of sight, Charlie lights up his phone and holds it over the bench where you were just sitting, just cumming on his fingers moments ago. Just as he thought, you’d dripped and soaked through your shorts and left a little of your arousal on the tiles. He wants to leave it there, let it dry and watch Nicole serve breakfast on it in the morning.

He stares.

He considers.

He wipes it down and hurries, stiffly and awkwardly, to the guest bedroom: preparing to fuck you senseless, and keep you quiet.


End file.
